Small Star in a Lonely Galaxy
by ConcealmentMeetsIllumination
Summary: Katherine is a foster child who's been targeted, as well as other girls in her small town, to be taken for a slave, but when its time for pick up and her captor, a vampire, has fallen in love with her illegally, will he risk death? or let her be enslaved?
1. Emerald Eyes

_ I'm not a very detailed person, however, I'm blunt, very obvious -- but sophisticated -- and always a mystery. I say what I want to say to who I want to say it to and don't really care whether they want to hear what I have to say to them or not. I get along with life in my small town as well as any gi-no scratch that, lady (I'm not five anymore) can get along as I live strong and smart and beautiful. I am blessed with long, flowing, beautiful, gorgeous bleach-blonde hair, a tiny behind, a body of a Goddess, and-_

"Katherine! Katherine Vilowsky!" screeched my nightmare of the school day as her all loyal spear of death came smashing upon my doodles and limbo illustrations with its cracked centimeter measurements and dried up wood fibers. "Miss Katherine Vilowsky! Are you listening?"

I jumped from the whip like sound of her make-shift teacher to student disciplinary weapon meeting my poor and abused, humble notebook of zoned out scholarly like a cat that has had a bucket of water dumped upon it. No not a sprits of water, not a cup of water, no, my dear readers. A bucket. A bucket of pure H2O. I am left in awe that my desk had not shattered from the shock of my jump.

With a deep breath in and a choke on the onion-anchovy sandwich breath I mistakably breathed in, I forced a composed, gentile smile to face my frog resembled captor. I could deeply swear that someone, high above the ceilings and gray clouds above our heads, has had it out for me. I wouldn't be surprised to have some mysterious fallen angel come up to me and tell me that I had died after committing some miserably, unimaginable crime that stands without any found consequence. And then get along to tell me that, for the makeup of the still to be found consequence, the Heavens' Lord, Master of All, has decided me to live my pathetic, pitiful first period of everyday of my junior year as the 'beloved' student of a frog creature. Whatever I must've done, however bad, I guess I must give props to the Sir of Sirs, for how he came to create a creature such as this to serve as the giver of death after death was a brilliant disciplinary idea. I sure have learned my lesson; every day I learn my lesson.

"Yes, ," I gasped, struggling to breathe. I swore she ate out of the trash just to 'unintentionally' suffocate her students. And, yes, I said the trash. For whom, in their right minds, would eat an onion and ANCHOVY sandwich? Either you're of the Devil or drunk. Flat line and period.

"Would you care to stand and explain to the class the correct answer to the question I have just previously cared to ask?" Her witchy, croaky voice was slick with sarcasm. She knew I wasn't paying attention; she only wanted to prove a point on why it was important to pay attention.

I looked out to all my drowsy and bored, but suddenly alert, peers. The farm boys and gals, the jocks, the cheerleaders, the emos, the socially awkward, they all stared at me awaiting an answer I didn't realize I had on the tip of my tongue. My eyes met every single pair in the midst of the smidge sized moment I had. All the browns and blues and undefined hazels and greens, I met them all. Every single pair of eyes I just was left hoping, just wishing, to find help or at least the question in. Or even, maybe, possibly, a tiny bit of encouragement would help!

Though, alas, as hard as I had searched I was still left with the same old thing. I had found nothing. Yep. Just a big barrel of zip, desolate nothing. No answer, no help, no question and what else? Yep ! You guessed it! No stinking encouragement. Revealed by the lonely halls I walked and alley's and streets, it was also shown by their eyes. If it wasn't for Ms. Swann, none of them would even realize I had a name.

Question.

Question.

Question…..

QUESTION!!

Oh yes, it's official, I suck at school. Now all I wish was that I was back in my boss' office with Snivels and Cake. Maybe even Blanket! All curled up near the hot heater, watching the winter snow fall outside the window. Alas, one could only wish though.

Lips quivering, struggling for an answer, I turned to face the wrinkled and beady eyed fearfully. I was already walking the tight rope of nerd-dom. One wrong slip up and I'd fall to eternal damnation of class dork.

However, staring at those thin, long, dripping lips and that carelessly placed, fake ugly mark, I embarked on a revelation. Well either a history renowned thought or the Frog's breath was causing me Jaundice Disease.

Well, my thought carries out that if I don't answer correctly, my fellow peers are handed the right to condemn me to the sticky and slurry table in the back of the lunch room with all the other sad, and pathetic bodies labeled by mistake. They can strip me of my single and final band of popularity and for the rest of my junior and leading on senior year leave me for their rath. I'd be their punching bag to curse and make fun of. Though the students here will never hit a girl, it's seen as curse to hit a female, the physical presentation of wounding doesn't cover social and mental abuse. I'm left to take it and have no one to shield me. No one there to help me. No one.

Oh GOD! And no one to ask me to prom! And JUST when Tyler Johnson was finally giving me the eyes after I've had a crush on him since second grade!

However, there goes to show the other hand of this balancing act.

If I get the answer right, I'm still going to be crucified to the nerds! I might as well slip on the ol' loafers and suspenders. Maybe I'll even start caring around my inhaler! My asthma isn't too bad, like I haven't used it since first grade, but who knows! Maybe it'll just add to the act! Hey, if anything, I could be the tree dork for the drama team. Their always rooting for nerds wanting to wear the scenery costumes!

Then again, if you really dig deep, this is all 's fault. She put me to the spot and she's ugly, short and stout, and hardly understandable enough that none of her students get a word out of her lesson much less care. It's her fault I hate school, the rest of my teachers aren't so bad. If she wasn't so boring, then maybe I'd actually care enough to know the question she wants an answer to! Huh! See you stuck up people of the world! If you are actually nice to people! Things happen!

Unfortunately, I can't change the past. And just wanted to see me cry.

I stood there, all alone with a beady eyed, frog creature staring at me smugly. The dragons of the school eyed me from the back with their fiery blonde hair and 'perfect' bodies like I was something to pick at. The peasants boredly waited to witness the climax of this usual fairy tale they've witnessed hundreds of times. The slaves with big brains secretly smiled behind their oversized glasses, awaiting my arrival to their table. The brave knights in shining armor nowhere to be seen. Oh I wished they had clocks in the medieval times! The Hero was always too late no matter what Hollywood says. There is no happily ever after for reality girls. At least, there's no happily ever after for this reality girl.

"Uhm….Well…You see," I struggled to find the answer or at least something witty to say. I searched through my oversized vocabulary and infinite creative mind. I rummaged through old ideas and theories to the shadows of my nightmares. When all I could remember was what I had for breakfast this morning, half a pop tart and fresh milk from the Adams' Milk Farm (if anyone was wondering), I gave up. But then, miraculously, something managed to fall out of my mouth.

"What did you say?" the suddenly taken aback Ms. Swann questioned. I stepped out of my body, metaphorically, and stared at myself while standing by her and the classes side, wondering the exact same thing.

Again the words tumbled out of my mouth. Instead of staring and pondering as she did a moment ago, she tapped my shoulder with her fearsome weapon of death and measurements.

"Explain," She ordered.

My body, finally realizing what it was saying, shook my head. "Never mind."

"That wasn't a question, Miss Katherine Vilowsky."

My eyes fell shut to face that terrible sting of words. Not a question? That only meant one thing.

"Stand up, Miss Vilowsky."

When I thought had found the final level, she surprises me by finding level zero.

Reluctantly, I stood, gulping back my fear of the nerds table. had already condemned me. I might as well get this over with and face the furry with my dignity.

"Alexander Oprin, a well known, Russian scientist of the thirty's suggested that all life, including humans, descend from a complex singular species of the submicroscopic form," I could already feel the lonelier, colder invisible barriers of nerdsville make their decent upon me through the eyes of the students around me. All of a sudden, I wondered why I didn't just shut up and earn a detention. That'd leave me possibly some salient right to my single sash of popularity. "Otherwise known…" Might as well finish what I started though. "Otherwise known as…"

A freezing electric shock ran through my shoulder and straight to my heart like lightning on a cold, winter's night. It was like nothing I'd ever felt before as a sudden firmness became on the target. Faintly I wondered, as I stared frozen, mouth gaped, in place awaiting an aftershock, if I had spontaneously been struck by real lightning. My breath not yet returned, maybe my sentence had finally finished! Goodbye ! Hello-oh great, hello hell.

"Bacteria, otherwise known as bacteria," a loose, harmonic voice came from beside me. It was sweet and full of laughter, however husky enough to reveal that everything wasn't always as it seemed. There was something scary, something dark behind the tones. Like some deep, shadowed secret you'd have to be killed to know. Though, I knew the voice. I never heard the voice before, but the strings on my heart, they were being pulled on. No not pulled necessarily, more like yanked! The familiar voice freed me from my chained, frozen state as a breath flooded my face to shock my lungs. "I'm glad to know I'm not the only one searching to know our beginning."

I turned to melt into beautiful emerald eyes against a perfect, early morning snow canvas and well chiseled cherry stained, diamond cut lips. Though my explanation short, I can say one thing:

If I could choose to die anyway, anytime, I would choose to die right then, right there melting into the eyes of that fallen angel as his silly words about bacteria and evolution and knowledge of how life began echoed into the end of my existence.

"And who are you?" hissed like a reeling viper. I faintly had the urge to jump right in front of her bite, as if I'd do anything for this stranger. Even put my life down for him.

"My name?" he snidely replied.

Huffing, unused to be back talked, placed her hands on her hips as she repeated herself, "Yes, your name, boy."

"Me?" he looked about himself to purposely clear the fact that we were in the front row where, in fact, all girls sat. "Not him?" he gestured with his free hand to the boy who sat to my right.

Most students mouths dropped, the poor indicated boy looked in shock from the pointed finger at him to . Probably to be sure she didn't think this charade was his fault.

On the contrary, Ms. Swann was automatically fuming, her face burning with beet red fury and anger. I was surprised to find her ears weren't steaming like in the cartoons.

"No," she was biting her tongue. She was seriously, literally biting her tongue! "Your name, boy. Your name."

"Me? Or-"

"For crying out loud! Give me your bloody name boy or get out of me class room!" Ouch, this kid had her going so bad, she's exploded! Even her British accent was back! Oh the agony of a deranged teacher finally getting a taste of her own medicine she's been dishing out for years.

Well, as I glanced back to see that smug "I'm-getting-the-reaction-I-wanted-" look, I forcefully slaughtered my memory of that one little word.

Not kid.

Fallen Angel

"Oh!" he released me (unfortunately) as fake realization dawned on him. "My name! That's what the whole fuss is about? Silly ol' me? Goodness, lady, quite the temper for such a question upon a simple, humble knight as me!"

Ms. Swann ground her teeth. I just could guess all the words and curses she was tossing at this boy through her eyes. Luckily, she wasn't Superwoman with laser vision.

"I'm Tyrell Johnson," with a flourishing sweep of a bow, his nose practically to the ground; I realized I wasn't the only girl the room who had eyes for the boy. There were half a dozen sighs from the females and an equalizing amount of humph's from the males from the big show. My Fallen Angel was going to be needed to be watched closely. Very, very-

Scratch that!

What in the world am I saying? What in the world is coming out of my mouth? Me protect god such as he? Me? The closest to class dorkulah girl of the junior year? Oh yah, the closest thing I have to shielding this hot chili pepper was my chewed up pencil and limbo illustrations. I just knew the moment that bell rung and she had the chance, Miss Eve Chances of the town famous Chance family who run the Chance Bank, was going to target, stalk and nail before second hour even had a chance to begin. He was already hers, I knew it. Somebody like me, no matter the sudden urge growing rapidly inside me at every look, could ever stand against her. She was Miss Popular. Miss Beautiful. And behind her daddy's back, Miss Town Slut who has taken every boy she's ever had the slightest liking into the shadows where they return broken hearted. She was half Latina, half hooch mama and no guy stood a chance…..

But, wait, wait, wait! AGAIN! What am I saying?

I hardly know this guy! I just barely heard his name! What interest could he have in me? And why in the world would I have any interest in him? Yes, he's hot, I'll admit even smoking sexy when you skim all the way down to his toes and find his tight shirt baring his sturdy, possibly rock hard abs down his baggy but still rocking my world jeans to even those tight air walk sneakers and then back up to those rock har-SHUT UP! Now is NOT the time to be earning those female hormones!

I don't know him! No good personality! No go! Repeat! No good personality, no go! No good personality, no go! No personality, no go! No personality, no go! Rinse, recycle, repeat and-

Well he does have a personality, does it matter if it's good with those abs?

Lost in thought, I pretty much almost missed that recurring electric shock when my trembling fingers were taken and, yes dear readers, kissed, by my- THE Fallen Angel.

"But you can call me, Angel," he said just barely above a whisper however, every female ear caught it as well as the fact he was looking at me and into my eyes when he spoke.

"But you can call me, Angel…"

"But you can call me, Angel…."

"You…Calll ME…..Angel…"

Fallen Angel?

You?

Me??

Call me?

Call him?

"But you can call me Angel…"

Translation: "Katherine, call me your Fallen Angel"

He did not just say that!

Did he?

"Or maybe we can call you Dee!" snarled Ms. Swann as she ruined practically the best thing in my life EVER to happen to me along with my good mornings, sense of confidence, and attention span. "As in: DETENTION!"

Pre-signed and dated with just a moment for a scribbled on name, Ms. Swann issued Tyrell (AKA My Personal Fallen Angel) a detention slip for that afternoon. Huh. Reminds me on how my first day went…..

Tyler Johnson smiled broadly as he snagged the white slip of paper from Ms. Swann as if she had handed him a hundred bucks. Most of the class questioned his sanity and his ability to read what was on the tiny sheet, aka contract for your soul.

"Thank you, Ms. Swann," he mused. "I hope we'll be able to do this more often."

With obvious horrible thoughts on what she'll do to him when she received him for detention this afternoon, Ms. Swann smiled with a greasy grin, "Yes, me too," as she made her way back to the front.

For a long moment, I stood there, deep within the safety of mind. I rethought about what had just happened, how it had occurred and whether or not there was an apocalypse soon to come for something like this never was to happen. No one EVER back talked Ms. Swann or tempted her to that sort of like. Though she hated being the fool and becoming boiling mad, she loved her position as a teacher. No, not for the liking of kids, she detested them, but for the beating of kids. Well, mental, she'd get sent to jail if she was physical, but mental was all hers. Yes, she was all about the beating of kids mentality. She proved herself every morning and in every detention she ever handed out.

I begged the heavens, this Tyler, my Fallen Angel, would face the good glories.

I prayed Ms. Swann would spontaneously combust right then, right there.

"Is there a problem Miss Vilowsky?" questioned the intolerable Ms. Swann.

I shook my head, "No, I-I don't think so. I-"

"Then take your seat, Miss Vilowsky! This instant!"

Practically animatronicaly, my knees buckled and I found myself tumbling, though not toward my seat. No, no, dear readers, not near my seat at all. Right upon the floor my butt went! Crack! Splat! Kibosh! And the uproar of laughter rang through the room like a siren to a fire! Call in the wonder dogs! Katherine has made a fall!

My face flushed hotter than the sun and I hadn't a clue what to do now to redeem myself from this floozy of a mess. So, I catered to the usual: kept my eyes on the floor, watched my feet, took my seat, and buried my face in my windblown blonde curls. Could this day get any worse?!

That's when I heard the rustle of clothing behind me, someone's butt hitting the floor, and the laughter ceasing before the loudest, most confident chuckle hollered the heavens'.

I chanced my reputation to look behind me at the empty seat that always has been, and to my surprise, always won't be.

On the floor, giggling his head off with the farthest upturn chin I've ever seen in my life, was none of then Fallen Angel. My Fallen Angel.

"Oh my god," he cried, fake wiping a tear from his eye as he sat up and simply sat on the floor. "You're hilarious, babe!" He stated almost proudly to me.

Wait, to me? To ME? Oh thank you heavens'! Could this day get any better! Now the entire school's going to know even the new, sexy kid thinks I'm a dork!

I turned to bury my face in the folds of my jacket. I may not be allowed to have a hood on, but no one said anything about the jacket itself!

"I mean! Wow!" He continued. I attempted to ignore it. "Who would be brave enough to literally obey a teacher like that? Who? By raise of hands?" I sank lower in my seat.

"I give you props, sweet heart!"

That's when my heart stopped.

"You've got guts! I like that!" he carried on from the seat of the school carpet. "You just turned that old hag into a laughing stock! Now I don't think anyone's going to have any problems with that croaking frog!"

And just when it was getting good at the props part, he HAD to get me in trouble.

I heard the ripping of a familiar piece of paper.

Then heard the Fate casting words, "For defying authority, Miss Vilowsky." I heard. "You'll be joining my detention period after school ."

That kid was lucky I had confidence issues and darn well lucky he's hot!


	2. Invitation

'Detention' was not a word you mention to Janie. Ever.

"Look, Janie," I sighed. "I-"

"And another thing!" she cried out. "Are you not telling me something? Is this about a guy? Are you pregnant? Oh my gosh! Did you, you know, do it? Oh! Kitty Kat! No! Don't tell me you did it! No! Scratch that! Tell me! I'm your Mother! Well, soon to be!" A giggle reminded me of her constant mood change. "Your adoption papers came in and, oh look! They're so official!" Papers rustled through the ear piece on my cell phone. This is the point where I took a calming breath in and zoned out for a bit.

I set the phone down on the table for a bit; fiddling my fork into what was supposedly brownies. Or was it spaghetti? I wasn't too sure. The food here was almost as bad as Janie's random recipes. And that's saying something.

Ah Janie. Now there's a woman any man wouldn't not be proud to dream constantly about. Well, at least, in my mind that is.

Janie is my everything. She's my foster mother, soon to be official mother, boss, best friend, and caring criticizer. She's full blooded American; you know the ones that can't get enough of hot dogs and sports? Loves animals so much she's become a vetinarian and bought the dyeing Animal Clinic across the street from the pound. Ironic, right? She's fun, fast, and furiously gorgeous for being thirty nine, I must admit, for she has the right curves, low weight, and long, auburn hair. Her lashes are dark and elegant around chestnut eyes that create the exotic effect for her deep German roots. She hardly wears any of those cosmetic gunks we smear around on our faces today, is never not oily from moisturizing way too much, and seems to always have a wet dog meets suburban mother scent trailing her.

Janie's also the perfect housewife. She cleans well (every now and then), cooks gourmet meals (half the time I don't even recognize what I'm putting in my mouth), and is very caring (even if you can hardly get a single word in half the time). Though, surprisingly, she's single and, as far as anyone knows, a thirty nine year old virgin. Which, by the way, isn't anything to be ashamed of! She's one of those 'I'm not doing it till I'm married' types and so far, not the right guy has come around just yet.

"Oh Kitty Kat! How could you do this to me?" I zoned back in and couldn't help but roll my eyes. "I mean, oh Kitty Kat! Where did I go wrong? Is this about the adoption? You know you're more than welcome to hold it off for as long as you want!" I scrambled for the phone, almost dropping it into my 'lunch'. "I don't want to push this onto you, darling. This is hard I know, giving up an old mother and," I opened my mouth to deny the difficulties. I mean, who wouldn't want a hair brained, adventure loving woman for a mother? "pulling on another. I know how hard it is! Well, actually I don't really. My mother's been the same mother for the last thirty nine years! And- oh, my gosh! Are you ill? Is that what this is about? Are you going through a depression and now you need special attention?"

On the other end of the line, I heard the door ding in the clinic and old leather boots clomping across the linoleum. Low thumping…thick leather…Dickeys signature on the back tabs…I knew just who it was!

"Oh! Mr. Davidson!" Janie cried out loud enough that I swore I wasn't just hearing her through the phone but from the streets. "You're early today!"

Oh, Mr. Davidson! Now that's the man that has broken my previous words. It's not that Janie hasn't found the right guy yet, it's just that she can't see her perfect man standing before her.

Mr. Davidson was a couple years older than Janie, but still as rambunctious in his quiet way. He's patient and kind and has a great hand at fixing stubborn sinks. He's not the greatest looking guy at his age with his graying brown hair, wrinkled forehead, and beer belly, but what he doesn't have in looks, he makes up for with humor. If I couldn't talk to Janie about something, (which is a very rare case) I could tell him knowing my secrets are kept safe while earning a smile by the silly jokes he uses to clear the air. Mr. Davidson is simply a swell kind of guy I wouldn't mind having as an adoptive father. If only Janie saw how much he was in love with her….

"Tell Mr. Davidson hi for me," I mentioned, though doubting she had heard me.

"Mr. Davidson, I-"Janie began.

"Please, Ms. Vilowsky," Mr. Davidson kindly reminded. "Call me Steve."

Poor guy. No matter how many times he tells her, Janie's never going to call him Steve.

"I need your help with this chair here," Janie continued on, hardly even noticing he'd spoken. "It squeaks, you know, and hurts Snivels ears." The phone clicked and seemed to tumble; that's when I knew our conversation was drowned out, forgotten, and over.

Janie set the phone probably on the front desk edge. A moment passed and I heard a hissing sound through the ear piece just when I was about to end the call. A smile instantly lit my face.

"Snivels! Hey baby boy! How are you?" Hisses were the reply.

Snivels is one of my very best animal friends. Barely a couple weeks old and already slithering through the house like he owns it! Snivels is a simple lime green garden snake that me and Mr. Davidson had rescued from a hawk when all fifteen of his siblings, plus him, were still in their eggs out in the back yard a few weeks ago . Three days later, we had a heart-breaking experience when we had found two out of the sixteen eggs hadn't made it. However, our smiles returned, after a moment of silence, for still we received fourteen happy and curious garden snakes! What a day!

Now, though, there is a reason for Mr. Davidson and I calling Snivels, Snivels. And that reason is-

The garden snake on the phone sneezed. "Are you sniveling, Snivels?" I laughed as the bell began to ring for fifth hour. Lunch time was over. "Ohps! Got to go Snivels! Tell mommy and daddy I love them!" Snivels hissed as if he understood and would. "Love you Snivels!"

Hanging up the phone, I grabbed my bag hastily as I entered the cold, winter air out of the cafeteria. I had a college class across the street in the Technologies building, but, walking across the street, it became obvious I wasn't the alone.

"Your mother's very," he paused for a thought, "talkative."

I stopped mid stride to turn and face the boy speaking to me. He seemed to have come out of nowhere! "What? You were…" I could hardly put words in my mouth. Already was I drowning in his emerald eyes. "You were listening to my conversation?"

Honking behind us alerted me I was supposed to be _walking_ across the street, instead of _standing_ in the middle of the dangerous, icy roads. I glanced back and sighed.

"Never mind," walking, I hoped he'd just head off to his own class and leave me be. No matter how much I liked the way he looked, his bad boy attitude wasn't a good sign for my health. Especially, I recalled, when every time I ever even chanced a glance at him all day, there was this eerie feeling like something was wrong. Something was off with him, something dark and gruesome. Like a monster lurked under those eyes just waiting, patiently, for someone to come along, stare long enough in those emeralds till just the right moment when they'd be given little chance of escape! I could only imagine the disgusting, oversized creature busting out of his snow white, albino skin to attack me or somebody else here in Daverritt High. I was going to have none of that hocus pocus.

Thinking about it, I also needed to stop watching sixties horror films.

Besides, Eve Chance, as I said earlier, had staked her mark.

Oh that Eve Chance. She thinks that just because her daddy owns and funds Chance Bank, everyone's supposed to fall to her every whim. Well, maybe it had a little bit to do with the fact she was drop dead gorgeous for a Latina, but nevertheless. If I had a say in this world, 'd declare that brains should count. Not up turned noses with cash and a mini skirt. Unfortunately, though, for now until I spontaneously become the first woman president, boys rule this world. And everyone knows that all they want are motorcycles, skimpily dressed motorcycle models and pizza. Maybe a hot dog here and there too, but that's about it.

"Oh, wait up!" my dream boat cried out after me. "I was just kidding!" I faced a perfectly portrayed innocence smile with a completely calm and composed facial expression of my own. With all the confidence I had, I knew our little stare off would only have one winner.

I almost fell flat on my face by those pearls he was blinding me with.

I totally almost had that battle. I did. I promise.

"Uhm," I mumbled, hardly catching a grip even when my head was turned to the floor, "Yah. Sure. Whatever." Now all I wanted to do was get to my class. Driving way to close for comfort behind us was none of other than the Chance family porch. The hum of the engine was sending the simple message loud and clear. To mess with Eve's guys was nothing less than a death wish that, I for one, just wanted to live without till at least the day I graduated my senior year. "Got to go!"

"Are you trying to avoid me?" he questioned with a laugh. The vibe was bright around him. However, I still couldn't shake the strange feeling from the after taste of his aura.

Yes. "No," I lied. "I just want to be on time for my class. Professor Guildinspire isn't a patient man. I don't want to upset him and earn _another_ detention."

"Uh-huh. Sure," he chuckled. "And let me guess! You blame _me_ for earning you that detention this afternoon with Ms. Frog-Face. Am I right?"

Completely! Without a doubt! "No," I shook my head. "I don't blame you. Now, if you'll excuse me."

Reaching for the handle, it was quite the surprise finding the glass door already opened.

"Ladies first!"

I sighed out my frustration under my breath. What was this guy's deal? Couldn't he take a hint?

"Thanks," I mumbled passed.

Turning left through the maze of hallways in the Daverritt University, I entered what the students called 'The Octopus'. All around me were blue walls and eight halls leading off throughout the entire building. In the middle of the blue tiled floor was a crystalline statue of the Daverritt University mascot; the all heroic Lioness the Lamb.

Purposively the most humble of the animal kingdom, the lamb represented our hard work by showing that we grow our sheep wares during the school year against the 'wolves' (our homework) and reach the summer with relief when we are done with school by shedding our wool by the hand of our farmer (Graduation Day). Though, I honestly wasn't one fond of being considered a sheep. But one must endure.

"Neat!" my stalker hollered. His voice could probably be heard for miles. Or it was my mind playing tricks. His husky voice echoed against the walls of my mental world. Shaking them till they trembled with fear of crumbling before leaving them be. Teasing my inner longing with temptation only one person could quench."A giant glass lamb!"

"Crystal," I corrected.

"Yah, right, crystal." He poked my shoulder before looping his arm around mine. The familiar current of lightning flooded my system. Like an old memory pressing for consciousness, the energy seeped through my skin to attack every nerve without compassion for the consequences. The feeling left my arm numb and raw, however, as much as I hated admitting it, it left my arm wanting more. And the worst of it, I kind of enjoyed the feeling. Somewhere in the back of my mind this felt good, this felt right. Like, that hole in my heart was being filled by the right person I've been searching for. They filled in like cement. Hardening and healing with magic touches. The wound and pain was lifted to the Heaven's to be healed. Now all I had to do was relax and fall away.

Yes, I could just fall away. Relax even. Leave behind this heck of a place. Maybe even give up my-

NO!

I yanked my arm away to stare at the obviously confused boy, my anger over ranking my completely senses. It terrorized the horrible images of peace and joy and forever happiness back into the back of my mind. Flooding every inch of my existence until it would be simply impossible to feel anything else. Flaring like an oil spill meeting a lit match. All there was was a boom, crash, bam; then, smoke and ruble. Nothing had been spared.

"Okay, look," I bit my tongue hard to remain somewhat calm. "I've got boundaries, okay?" he slowly nodded. Glad to see he wasn't completely consumed by ego. "I don't know who you are, and you obviously don't realize that. I don't know where you're from or who you're supposed to be with or why you're impersonating Tyrell Johnson or if you have mental issues or anything. I hate to be cruel, but you've got to stop."

"Stop?" that cunning smile cracked his lips. This was a losing battle.

"And I-" From that point, my will gave in. "You know what?" shaking my head, I turned to walk down the hallway ahead of me. "Forget it," I sighed. "Just forget it."

I turned left again, down the new hall, and opened the mahogany wood door.

The door shut by a new hand.

"Hey," I stared at him. "Look, okay. Obviously, something's wrong."

No kidding.

I said nothing. Simply, I was awaiting my chance to get to class.

"But hey, come on. Why don't you come with me and we'll talk things over, eh? How about it, babe?" that stupid, flirtatious smile flashed. Did he really think he was all that?

Stupid, ugly, good for nothing smile that drives me insane!

But still, though. It is pretty hot and se-

Just shut it Katherine. Don't even go there.

"I don't think so," I replied carefully, avoiding the longing that squeaked into my voice.

"Ah, come on!" he pouted. God he was hot when he pouted! His lip curled just right and his brows pulled together so innocently. Even his eyes were full of moisture. He was like a little puppy! A cute little shadow haired puppy! "Putty please?"

Putty? Putty please? Was that even a word?

Who cares! He was so adorable when he said it!

"And where do you think we're going to go and do?" I hummed at him. "Skip? Ditch? Or how about I tell you no one more time? And this time, you go on your way and leave me be. I don't play bad girl."

Oh, wow. That was harsh now that I actually think about what I said. This loner game is difficult for nice people.

"But what if I told you the bad side had cookies?"

"No thanks," I took hold of the handle of the door and pulled it open. "I don't take treats from strangers. Stranger danger, you know."

"That's cold girl," he snickered. "Ice cold."

Better than getting in more trouble than I already am.

Slipping into the classroom quietly, the mad Professor hadn't arrived yet. He was probably back in the lab blowing his eye brows off again.

Looking around the classroom, this one wasn't as impressive as you'd imagine a Chemistry Class would be. There were tall black tables, a sink installed in each, lined in rows with aisles in between. Three columns, five rows and only six students. It was more than enough room for her tiny class, but looking around at the front where their latest experiment took up most of the western wall corner, it was obvious the students were dangerous.

The experiment was a fuming, foggy machine that's suppose to drain the sugar out of a candy bar by dragging the bar through a series of tubes, wires, winds, and heats. The candy bar entered point A in normal form, and twenty five seconds later, ended up at point B with melted sugar in a vile and the melted mush of the left over candy bar in another. They were still working on the blue prints on how to return the candy bar back to its normal state without the sugar, however, the machine itself was still pretty impressive. The class called it Wonka 2 or Wonka Junior.

The rest of the room though, was a normal chemistry lab.

There were white linoleum floors, a long black board at the front with an installed SMART board and teacher's desk. There was even the 'student loves teacher' touch of a bright, juicy red apple sitting next to pencil shavings and untouched paper work. Glass cabinets along the walls revealed test tubes and locked up chemicals. Then as a purposive homey feel, there was a large smiley face plastered to the back wall over the clock. No one knew why it was plastered to the clock though or even who had pasted it there. The air smelt of burning hair and febreeze, but other than the nauseating scent, the large room was pretty decent.

"Sweet pad," Alas, I thought I had rid of the pestering boy.

I set my bag and chemistry book at my desk before heading over to observe Wonka Junior at the front along with my fellow classmates; with an unexpected visitor tailing along for the ride.

Stephanie Lorenz, a short senior with bright blue eyes and sweeping brown hair, glanced over quizzically. "Who's your friend, Katherine?" I didn't even need to look behind me to know who she was questioning about.

"Tyrell," he answered himself. "Tyrell James, at your service!" He tipped her off with a sailor salute.

I did a double take.

He changed his name?

This is when my day turned upside down.

Through out all my periods, it turned out that fifth through seventh hour, me and this purposive Tyrell had every hour together. And every hour, his last name changed.

When the time came, it had turned out that Tyrell had begun making his descent towards the main doors, opposite 's classroom of heck. Half my mind was kind of relieved to find him leaving me be for once. Goodness, he was like a leech to every non-popular girl in my classes. Like literally, he looped his arm around every girl deemed a loaner or nerd almost as if he was there to point our flaws out next to his godly glamour. Honestly, the charade was rather annoying. Sadly, though, no one else seemed to mind. I was alone on the thought all together.

On the other half of my mind, somewhere buried deep within, a voice I disclaim as my own, wanted to scream out after him. The person within that caused this strong longing towards the boy was racking around in the cage I forced it in. Banging around in its box and rattling its chains like a crazed banshee. It wanted out. I wanted it to shut up.

The person within me, redeemed of physical powers over my body, used it's mental gifts to penetrate deep into my mind. The person seeked my compassion to give life a chance. It wanted a little freedom to move about a bit and converse with the boy. It wanted to know love, know what it wants, feel feeling. I could hardly understand the strange language it spoke of, however, I knew it would be a bad idea to let the person within me win me over. For some strange reason, the person within me wanted to fill something. Fill something that is empty within me. Fill the thing that I've been attempting to fill for years.

_Fill the missing spot._ It whispered in my ear. _Fill the crack and make it whole._

Fill the crack and make it whole? Whole felt real good. Or, looked real good. But as priests go by and attempt to tempt me to their churches with fluent and forgotten languages, I have learned one thing: _The Devil tempts the road made of gold, but in the end, you find the road is gold of the fools._ No way am I walking a road made of gold of the fools. That's dangerous turf and not the path to happiness. My life is crazy enough. What with the adoption papers awaiting at home, getting Janie to notice Mr. Davidson, keeping grades up, and now enduring this detention my victimized peers don't speak about. I don't need any more mistakes. I promised myself, long ago, to keep things straight and easy; that's a promise I'm goanna keep.

Well, I was going to keep my promise until my body distracted my mind long enough to call out Tyrell. Now, returned to earth, I've found myself manage a real conversation with the boy of my dreams.

"Yah, I don't think I'm going to go to the detention," He'd stated almost devilishly. "Who needs to go to a detention that's not theirs?"

Just as I was about to argue the fact that it was his detention, I overheard Ms. Swann beckoning in Tyrell Johnson, the captain of the foot ball team, a quarter back and my crush since second grade, into her classroom. He questioned with a confused face as he obediently followed her in. When the creaky door slammed shut and echoed like a dungeon door, I turned back to Tyrell.

The question was on my face, I knew, but I asked anyhow, "What do you mean not yours? How come Tyrell Johnson has your detention?"

"Ah," a wise look crossed his facial features. "But there's the catch."

"What catch?"

His arms arched wide as he backed up towards the main doors. "The catch that I'm not Tyrell Johnson."

"What?" Now I was ultra confused. Seventh hour he had admitted to being Tyrell Johnson. Now what was he telling me?

"I'm Tyrell-"

"Johnson." I finished for him.

A mischievous grin flashed upon his perfect lips my eyes kept returning to. "Nope," He shook his head at me.

"No?" My eyebrows flicked up as I gazed at him, utterly lost at his fancy word works.

"No." He was having fun with this. His eyes knew my discomfort all too well.

"Who are you then?" My hands met my hips. My daring will to continue this festering charade was dramatically coming to an end.

"I am Tyrell," a sneer crossed his lips.

I waited a moment before replying. Was that it? "Tyrell? You're just, Tyrell?"

Nodding, "Now, are you coming?"

"Coming?" Okay. First the name thing, now he's adding a new twist? Grand. If he couldn't be human, he had to be one of those alien's who's words were mazes. Like a green little alien from Mars. Or, maybe even from a Star Wars flick. Like, Yoda, for instance! Yes! That's who he reminds me of! Yoda! Little bad English guy from who knows where but not earth!

"Yah, you said we would talk later," he laughed.

My brows pulled together in frustration. Now what was he going on about?"I had? About what?"

"I'm not too sure. You said it." Now he was ultra confusing. I honestly couldn't remember barely saying a single word to him. Let alone telling him we would 'talk later'.

"No, I have a detention I have to-" He had taken hold of my shoulder, turning be back to him, before I could even realize what was going on and resist the motive.

"No you don't." Opening my mouth to question the fact, he took my limbo illustrations notebook hastily from my hands. He flipped through the pages until he came across the one he wanted. The page he wanted held my detention slip. "Katherine_ Vilonsky_ does."

"She just misspelled my name, I _still_ have to go." I assured him, reaching for the notebook he wasn't keen on giving back.

"Not spelled right, not your name," he snapped the notebook shut. "No go."

Frustration flooded from my lips in the form of a breath. "Look, Tyrell. Please, I ha-"

"Just hear me out, honey!" was that desperation I hear in his voice? "I just want to escourt you to this after school party. Please, come with me! I don't want to be left alone with Denis, Damien, Johnny and their dates! Yah, there's a whole hell of a lot more girls going, but I don't like snobs! I just need a real date! Please will you go?"

There was that stupid pout.

I ground my teeth. My care side was really getting at me today.

"Will you?" he took my hand and kneeled. People's heads turned and eyes bored into my back as people walked in and out of the main doors. My cheeks reddened with embarrassment. My lips mouthed for the boy to get off the floor. "I'm begging, Kitty Kat."

Hey! That's Janie's nick name! He can't use that nick name!

But, wait. How bad could a couple hours of hanging out really matter? It was just a small party. Maybe if I turned out to be a horrible date I could get Tyrell to leave me alone. I was already becoming the star for rumors and gossip. It wouldn't be long till Eve had a word for me.

Then again, if Eve or one of her friends see me with Tyrell I'm dead anyhow.

Great. This is like a double ended blade.

_That was chapter two! Thanks for reading!_

_Now there leaves the big question……._

_Is Katherine going with Tyrell? Or will she not give in? Make the change and move on with her life? Find out in Chapter three!_


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